yes, blood blossoms bright.
blood will flow deep once again, my love.out of its petals we'll raise the sun our ancestors lost
searing blaze will part the treacherous skiesto rip orange through the smoke-clot sky, scarlet mouth, womb
will open the red fields of the dead, bodies wrenchedstretched-strung-- violet expanse deep as bruises, a violence of cloud. our wrists
from the blood-vein roots of freedom. the clouds ate my tongueache: the rainless days are upon us, the air gapes for our bones. atop manila's walls
as the soldiers took my mother. burn. they said: burn.we burn. tongues of dry lightning split our skin open: still our mothers say
there is no more magic in the world, if not the lullabies the dark devoured,time will heal all wounds. even war. Anitun Tabu keens cobalt overhead, wheeling wide.
hands hot on my cheek. there is nothing more to bring back. only this:look, the stars above our ember cities. soon the bayonets we broke will echo
rosaries shackled to our arms, fragments of the moon in bonethe old thirsts, the new songs we sing, our voices lifting dark and clear in the ruins
ash and earthquake in throat, song of thirst and lightning, birdcall of the promisewhen we return our names, free at last, at last, to the waiting sea.
the waves will drown even-also our names, will drown it all.

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